


The Demon Queen

by patheticlesbian



Series: The Seven Realms - Lesbians [1]
Category: The Seven Realms Series - Cinda Williams Chima
Genre: Alister - Freeform, Diversity bro, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, I'm probably not going to finish this, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Lesbians, MARI DOESNT DIE, No Lesbians Die, Please Don't Hate Me, Please Kill Me, Seven Realms, Useless Lesbians, but raisa is great, gays, hannah is my favorite, i cuss a lot, later on?, less death, mari doesn't die, mellony's a bih, micah bayar is an asshole, raisa sucks, rating change?, this is gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15846867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patheticlesbian/pseuds/patheticlesbian
Summary: Characters all imagined by Cinda Williams Chima from the amazing Seven Realms series.We need more positive lesbian representation in mainstream media and pop culture. What better way to start that than to use someone's brilliant work as a foundation for a crappy version of the original?Changed up a couple of characters because girl power. Also changing some of the storyline - won't be an exact replica of the book just with girls. Sorry.Hannah Alister will stop at nothing to provide a living for her family in the city of Fellsmarch, a capitol overrun by corruption, disease, and death. Watch what happens as she runs into Raisa ana'Marianna, the heir to the Grey Wolf Throne in this epic series controlled by both dark and light magic, along with love. Lots of love. Lesbian love. Cool bye descriptions are horrible





	1. The Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> This book is going to be EXTREMELY similar to Demon King at the beginning and branch off after the first two or three chapters. I hope it doesn't get copyrighted??
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> 2087 Words
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> HELP I DONT KNOW HOW TO INDENT

Hannah Alister knelt on the thin, muddy ground, staring at the bubbling surface of the mud spring in front of her with a grimace on her face. Because of the awful fumes that rose upward from the boiling slop, she had tied a black bandana over her mouth and nose that continuously found itself dancing before her eyes, obscuring her vision. Leaning forward and praying to the skies, she extended her digging stick forward toward the ugly patch of pale green plants, narrowly missing the dangerous red bloom directly beside it, and carefully slid the stick under them, lifting and then dropping them into her deerskin bag that hung from her shoulder. 

Carefully rising to her feet on the dangerously thin ground, she began to retreat to the solid grass of the forest. 

A third of the way there. 

A half. 

Three q- 

The villainous piece of fabric rose up into her eyes, and suddenly the fragile ground cracked beneath one of her feet, sending it calf-deep into the horribly hot mud. Shouting a cuss, and flinging herself backward, she hoped that she wouldn’t fall flat on her back straight into another mud pot, or even worse, a boiling, vivid blue spring of water just waiting the send her skin slipping from her bones. Fortunately, she landed on solid earth as she had hoped, surrounded by the lodgepole pines she was so familiar with. Behind her, she heard Fire Dancer gracefully making his way down the slope, sliding and jumping when necessary, openly chuckling, as he reached her and gripped her wrists, hauling her to safer ground. 

“Hunts Alone, it looks like we’ll have to change your name,” Dancer teases, squatting down next to Han, eyes shining and lips twitching, though his thin, tan face remained straight. “How do you feel about ‘Wades in the Mudpot’? Or, maybe, ‘Melts in the Spring’?” 

Hannah’s name was the last thing on her mind, as she had been saved from being burned. By her knee-high boots. Of which, the right was completely caked with the nasty mud. The burn that would have resulted from her wearing her old beat-up moccasins would be worth it compared to her mother’s easy-to-predict reaction. 

“Hannah Alister, those boots were clan made. Do you know what they cost?” 

It didn’t matter that she hadn’t even paid for them. Dancer’s mother, Willo, a second mother to Hannah, had traded them to her for just a rare lifeguardian mushroom that she’d found last summer. Mam hadn’t been at all happy when she brought them home. 

“Boots? You’re joking.” Mam had forced out from her pinched lips, staring at Han in disbelief and growing anger. “Fancy boots? You selfish bastard! You couldn’ta asked for money? Grain, to feed your sister? Warm blankets for our beds? How long till you grow out of those damn boots?” Mam had stalked toward her with the ever-present switch passing from hand to hand, with Han backing away. A lifetime of hard work wherever she could get it had left her mother with a powerful arm - that, Hannah knew from experience. 

Han had left the house the next morning with welts and bruises littering her back and shoulders. 

She kept the boots. 

Hannah knew that they were worth far more than what she had traded Willo, but Dancer’s mother had helped raise Han and Mari, her sister, because there was no man in the house. Hannah certainly didn’t count, even though she provided for her family as best she could. After all, she was only a woman. A nearly seventeen year old woman, for that matter. It was only a matter of time until she would be expected to begin selling her body on the streets for extra income. 

Dancer brought water from Firehole Spring, sloshing it over the boot Han still wore. “Why is it that the only way to make money off of these plants is to nearly kill ourselves every time we have to go to a nasty place and get them?” Dancer questions, furrowing his brow as he tries to help Han scrub the boot clean. 

“Dancer, if they grew in gardens and streets, how would we sell them for any decent money?” Han growls, wiping her hands on her already stained leggings. The silver cuffs around her wrists were caked with even more mud than the boot, deeply embedded in the delicate engraving. If she didn’t clean them carefully and copiously before she got home, she’d hear about that too. From the swishing of Mam’s switch. 

The frustrating day ended fittingly. Hannah and Dancer had been out in the forest since before dawn, and all they had to show for it were a couple of cinnamon lilies, razor-leaf, bran bark, and some common harkwart that she could easily pass off as maidenweed at the Flatlander Market. The lack of funds that her family faced forced her to venture into the mountains searching for a source of income far too early into the season to have any sort of success. 

“This is a waste of time,” Han grumbles, even though it had been her idea and Dancer had kindly and voluntarily joined her. She snatches a large rock from the ground beside her and pitches it into the mudpot, watching as it smacks with a vicious slap. “Let’s do something else.” 

Dancer cocks his head, his dark, beaded braids swinging. “Han, I don’t think there’s anything else to do. We should just head back to the clan.” 

“No, let’s go hunting,” Han phrases it as a statement rather than a question. Plus, she would rather not rush her arrival home, and her subsequent reprimanding. Reaching to her back and feeling the waxed string of her short bow slung across it, grinning wickedly. 

Dancer does just the opposite, frowning deeply as he thinks about the possibility. “Spring Weaver told me that the fellsdeer have been spotted around Burnt Tree Meadow. Bird agreed - she said they were there yesterday.”

“Let’s go then, Dancer!” Han doesn’t take any time to think about it. She knows that the meat would be more than enough to make up for the meager results she had had foraging in the forest that day. It would be a good replacement for the occasional dry salt meat and cakey porridge they had been eating since their supply of beans, cabbage, and dried fish evaporated far before its time. 

The two of them head east toward the meadow, leaving the gurgling mudpots behind them. Dancer sets a relentless pace down the valley of the Dyrnnewater, leaving Han breathless and her ugly mood chipping away with each step and the friction that came with physical exertion. 

Along with the exercise, the day began to wear away at her anger. It was impossible to remain as upset at the world as she had been when, as they walked, signs of spring bloomed around them on all sides. Wild skunk cabbage and virgin’s kiss litter the forest floor, and as they move deeper into the trees, Ule Apples cover the lush ground, having fallen from the tree branches towering above. Han breathes in the sweet scent of warm earth that was just escaping the cover of winter’s tears. The river - Dyrnnewater - slipped and spilled over boulders and roared over picturesque waterfalls, fed by the snow that melted at the very tips of Hanalea Mountain. The day grows warmer, the time being late afternoon already, and Han removes her deer-skin jacket, once again thanking the animal that had kept her warm through winter. Pushing her ratty sleeves past her elbows, she overtakes Dancer and spins around, face toward the tops of the trees, trying to reach the sun. 

Burnt Tree Meadow was named by the Spirit Clans. Though the name was relatively self-explanatory, it had come by it recently. A wildfire rushed through the site and left one half-burnt tree in the middle. In a very small number of short years, the meadow would once again be reclaimed by thick lodgepole pines and knee-high needlebrush, but in the moment, it was a perfect spot for hunting. A thick sea of brightly colored wildflowers, tall grass, and fellsdeer found themselves residing in the meadow. Charred pines littered the edges of the meadow, and other trunks scattered through the meadow, leaving perfect spots to hide from their prey. The knee-high saplings of new trees found themselves rooting into the ground, their growth spurred by the nearby Dyrnnewater and the bright sun. Raspberry and blackberry bramble could be seen all around, glowing under the sun, ripe for picking. 

In the middle of the meadow, over a dozen fellsdeer sprawled, some grazing on the sweet dewy grass, and others lying and basking in the sunlight that shone down upon the Fells, their beautiful hides shimmering. Large ears flicked away bugs, and the red skin of their chests were like spots of paint that painted a target to Han, who already had a hand on her bow. 

Her heart beats faster and faster, pounding against her chest. At this rate, the deer must be able to hear each drum. Dancer was the far better archer, but more patient in choosing his shots. She was prepared for each of them to take a deer, and could see no reason as to why neither of them should. Her stomach, always empty, growls, and her eyes narrow. Her breathing stills, and her heart follows. 

The two of them separated to find spots downwind from the herd so that they would have a chance. The air carried a hint of smoke, to which she raises an eyebrow at Dancer, who quietly told her what she already knew - this season was not one of wildfires. It must be from the camps. Perhaps a feast would be held later - maybe members from another clan would be visiting. 

Carefully and gracefully, Han rises to her feet, long, loose limbs stretching out, and new thornjack bow at the ready. Made to match her recent growth, and probably final, it was the most beautiful thing she owned. Carved by hand for hours by Stark Wind, and like all of the very few clan-made items she owned, it married beauty and function. The bow itself, a deep hue of red and brown mixed together, and carved along the sides were fellsdeer and sun daisies, often associated with her because of her hair coloring - blonde, so blonde to the point it was nearly white. Calloused thumb grazing the string, she raises her bow, only to see that all of a sudden the deer in the meadow caught the same scent that she and Dancer had. It grew stronger by the second. 

Heads raised and narrow hooves stomping, from her position, Hannah could see the whites of their dark, innocent eyes. Something was wrong. Checking all around her, Han spotted something above the trees - orange, purple, and green flame licked along the top of the mountain, rapidly making its way down, the wind blowing the hot smoke downhill. 

Purple and green? Which plants burned with those colors? None that Han could think of, and she knew plants like she knew the streets of Ragmarket. 

The herd take a minute to anxiously mill about before making a dash for it, charging straight toward Han and Dancer. Both raise their bows to attempt a shot, and both have as much luck as the other - that is, none. Devoured by the dwarfish possibility that remained of getting meat on the table for the night, Han chased after the deer, and watched as their nimble legs and white tails flicked like flags before they disappeared. Still, she tried to jump over a fallen pine, and raced forward, only to be called back by Dancer, who had a worried look on his usually solemn face. 

The pair glanced at each other, Han burning with rage, almost as fiery as the blaze headed towards them. Dancer shook his head, slung his bow in the position on his back, and nodded his head in the opposite direction of the fire, not saying a word. Hannah nodded back to make sure he knew she was not going to lose her easily lost temper just yet, and followed his limber legs, keeping her eyes down to avoid as much smoke as possible. Eventually, they came across a rocky outcrop to shelter behind, and watched as queenrabbits, firefoxes, and other small animals dashed past them as the fire line hissed just behind them, roaring its ugly head and crashing down on everything around them. 

 


	2. yikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :(

lowey forgot i was writing this. Junior year is kicking my ass. Yikes. Sorry y'all


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